You can truz me. I goin' fedge 'im. H-ondly you
go h-open you' owze."
Madame Delphine looked down, twining her handkerchief among her fingers.
He repeated his proposition.
"You will come firz by you'se'f?" she asked.
"Iv you wand."
She lifted up once more her eye of faith. That was her answer.
"Come," he said, gently, "I wan' sen' some bird ad you' lill' gal."
And they went away, Madame Delphine's spirit grown so exaltedly bold
that she said as they went, though a violent blush followed her words:
"Miche Vignevielle, I thing Pere Jerome mighd be ab'e to tell you
someboddie."
CHAPTER XI.
FACE TO FACE.
Madame Delphine found her house neither burned nor rifled.
"_Ah! ma, piti sans popa_! Ah I my little fatherless one!" Her faded
bonnet fell back between her shoulders, hanging on by the strings, and
her dropped basket, with its "few lill' _becassines-de-mer_" dangling
from the handle, rolled out its okra and soup-joint upon the floor. "_Ma
piti_! kiss!--kiss!--kiss!"
"But is it good news you have, or bad?" cried the girl, a fourth or
fifth time.
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